Sunrise In The Dungeons
by TheInFamousJew
Summary: Finally adjusting to the continued rejection of his application to become the Defense Against The Dark Arts professor, Severus is incensed when he learns that, not only has he been passed up again, but this time, by a woman.


If I owned Harry Potter, we'd still be waiting on the Third Book. Thank goodness it's property of J.K. Rowling (genius that she is). She wrote the wonderful characters I have momentarily borrowed for my own amusement (and hopefully yours), and I make no claim otherwise, nor do I take any sort of monetary compensation for the time I spend in front of a keyboard writing this. It's all purely for laughs and giggles.  
  
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Professor Snape stirred his tea slowly, watching the ripples with distracted fascination. Gently rubbing the spoon on the rim of the cup, he set it down beside the saucer and took the cup in both hands. His thoughtful expression turned to his trademark sneer as he brought it to his lips. ~ Passed up again.for a female. ~ Caressing the liquid in his mouth with his tongue, his mind wandered back to earlier that morning and the meeting with Dumbledore  
  
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'It's not that I don't have faith in your abilities, Severus, I just think that your talents are better served as the Potions teacher.'  
  
He didn't respond, allowing not a ripple of reaction to break his stoic façade.  
  
'It isn't personal, but with your position with Voldemort, I feel that less attention will be attracted with you continuing your position as it stands.'  
  
Severus snorted in annoyance. This had nothing to with Voldemort and they both knew it.  
  
'As well, given your activities, I'd feel better about sparing you from the dungeons then from the Defense class.'  
  
Again, there was no response from Severus and his eyes narrowed with impatience. Dumbledore sighed audibly as the other man began to stand.  
  
'So we're done now?'  
  
'Very well, Severus, if this is how you insist on being, then I can only offer you my sincerest of apologies.'  
  
Snape's annoyance was cutting as he forced a response.  
  
'Save your apologies for ears that would have them, I understand perfectly.'  
  
His robes made no sound as he swept from the room, reminding Dumbledore of a rather angry shadow. ~ Ah, Severus, when will you ever grow out of your childish impatience? ~  
  
Dumbledore removed his glasses; suddenly aware of the rare moment of silence he had found himself in. Rubbing his temples lightly, he surveyed the havoc that had overcome his normally clean office. Maps of Europe lay strewn everywhere, sporting various colored identification dots, marking areas where activity of a suspicious nature, or worse, an attack, had been reported. Daily Profits lay in various places, headlines screaming from the front pages. Cornelius Fudge could be seen on more then a few of them, insisting that they were isolated incidents with absolutely no connection to the Dark Lord. Replacing his glasses, he picked up the map nearest him and once again attempted to find the pattern he knew must lye hidden.  
  
~ It all points to something happening soon. ~  
  
He set the map down again and looked into the distance that didn't exist beyond his door.  
  
~ But what? ~  
  
He stretched his hand toward his feathered companion and gently stroked his back.  
  
'I feel we have very little time to wait, Fawkes.'  
  
Fawkes responded by giving a short cry and leaning into Dumbledore's touch. Reaching into his cloak, he removed a lemon drop from an inner pocket and popped it into his mouth. Turning to his crimson-colored companion, his brow furled. 'Do you think I've done the right thing?'  
  
Fawkes looked at Dumbledore, and for a minute the old man thought he saw him now.  
  
'Do you think he'll stay mad at me long? It was Christmas before he'd speak to me after we hired Remus.'  
  
This time, Fawkes gave no reply.  
  
'I suppose I can only hope he gets what it is he has been waiting for for so long before anything comes to pass.'  
  
Fawkes seemed to nod again, as is he agreed, and Dumbledore felt as though he understood his every word.  
  
'I fear by that time, it may be too late.'  
  
Fawkes gave another cry as Dumbledore gave him a last pet and turned to examine the celestial chart that sat on the corner of his desk.  
  
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Grimacing at the memory, Snape turned suddenly, flinging the cup angrily into the flames that danced inside his marble fireplace. ~ Damned Dumbledore. ~ He'd become accustomed to being passed over for the Defense Against The Dark Arts teaching position, but never had he ever been as insulted as this. Being passed up for the werewolf had been easier to digest then the idea of a woman taking the job he so coveted.  
  
Walking to his mantle, he picked up the glass sifter and accompanying shot- glass. Uncapping the sifter, he poured the amber liquid until it reached the brim of the glass and let it slide down his throat, replacing the liquid in the cup and repeating the same step almost instantly. ~ Minerva, Sprout, Trelawney, aren't there enough women in the castle? What makes him think we need another? ~  
  
~ Damned you, old man ~ he thought, bitterly. Placing the glass back on the mantle, he stared at the amber liquid, dancing in the bottle as he swished it slowly with the smooth movement of his wrist. He respected Albus Dumbledore more then any other wizard he had ever met, but that didn't seem to sedate the burning anger within him. Bring the mouth of the sifter to his lips, the sneer he was so famous for captured his features again.  
  
'Here's to another year.' 


End file.
